tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-88592002743704060462024-03-18T20:38:29.972-07:00JudapaloozaJudhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07079097345536803291noreply@blogger.comBlogger78125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8859200274370406046.post-24989530501652505132020-07-21T06:18:00.000-07:002020-07-21T06:18:51.600-07:00Perils of Online DatingI suppose there are all sorts of peril in online dating, but for me, and I would imagine many others, creating the profile is the first challenge. As a person of a certain age, in many way it is like selling a used car or a house that is a "handyman special." How can I best represent myself, or should I try to accurately represent myself? I certainly don't want someone who is extreme in her political views, whether left or right. I don't want someone that is overly religious or spiritual. I have dated these people and I have found it incredibly taxing. In so positioning myself am I coming off as bland? I suppose for those types I might well be.<div><br /></div><div><img alt="Download 2480x3508 Hands, Romance, Sunset, Couple Wallpapers ..." src="https://encrypted-tbn0.gstatic.com/images?q=tbn%3AANd9GcTlTrFs3X5DnQJvxOwuHgSeW0mKBJhX9iyVPw&usqp=CAU" /></div><div><br /></div><div>So many of the generic things people post are much help. "I like movies and music, going to dinner, and taking walks." Not much help. I like a lot of different music, as I suppose mot people do. I don't care too much for modern country or hip-hop, but I do like some. I can't see myself listening to either for a car ride longer than 15-20 minutes without turning it down and talking over it. I don't care for a lot of reality TV, and watching another singing/talent competition, a dating show like the Bachelor or Bachelorette, or some celebrity lifestyle show would make me pull out a book or head for another room. I understand they are immensely popular, but not for me. Additionally, I am not a die-hard sports fan as so many people all in the South.</div><div><br /></div><div>So I wrote my reasonably generic depiction of myself, curated a few reasonably recent photos (less than a year old), and created my profile. The site I was using had an interface that I do not like. Apparently you can like or pass on folks, and then it sends some notification to them if you "like them." I had been using the "like" as a save for later review and them consider communicating with them. I think it has been sending them some canned, inane communication from me. Ugh. </div><div><br /></div><div>Inevitably one receives similar messages from persons who were most assuredly in the "pass" group. Am I obligated to respond? Someone took the time to look me over, but for whatever reason I had didn't want to consider them further. Perhaps it was there looks, or a series of bathroom/car selfies, or just a general sense that the might be a little on the crazy side. Now, I have dated my share of crazies (and I am certain I have been the crazy for other people), and there is something to be said for the neverending drama that can surround them, but I am too old and too tired for all of that.</div><div><br /></div><div>I have paid for one month on the site, and I have cancelled my auto-renewal. This is also not uncommon for me. Sometimes I get started, dip my toe in the water, and then decide the timing is not right. I then return to the site, or find another, and am more vested in seeing it through. Perhaps in a few months I will be more engaged in the hunt for romance.</div>Judhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07079097345536803291noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8859200274370406046.post-5763299807178134342020-05-26T06:39:00.000-07:002020-07-21T05:55:58.921-07:00Alone Again, NaturallyWell, after a tumultuous spring, my SAG and I parted company. I suppose it was as amicable as a breakup can be, but that didn't make it any less painful.<br />
<br />
I dove back into the dating pool after some small period of self-doubt and misery. (NB: I started this post in April 2018).<br />
<br />
So, now two years and two more relationships gone by, I am trying to determine if I am ready and willing to dive back into the pool, post (mid?) COVID.<br />
<br />
Little One has completed her first year of college and is living full-time in her college town. I am living with the hounds and the few chickens I bought over the last two years. I suppose now that I am pretty much an empty-nester, and a man of a certain age, I ponder how I want to shape my future.<br />
<br />
I have had two competing dreams throughout my life. One, to own some land in a very rural part of the US, with woods and pastures, perhaps to farm or run a few head of cattle. As idyllic as that might be, it would be a lot of work. How much work do I really want to do when I retire, or as I decline? How much will I physically be able to do? How does one find that balance between becoming a mushroom, sitting in a recliner, reading, watching telly, and pouring the first glass of scotch ever closer to noon, or even to sweeten the coffee?<br />
<br />
The other dream, is life aboard a boat. One of my high school pals and I almost bought a cabin cruiser in the late 80s, but we never did. Now, I have learned to sail, and I like it. Sailboats - all boats - require regular maintenance and upkeep. While technically I can sail, I am not very experienced. I would need more training to truly feel comfortable in heavy weather or heavily trafficked waters.<br />
<br />
So while I have Little One in college, and am paying those bills, I continue to contemplate how I will chart my course.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiisIWDqf-rDDPKcQ0SIdQLSVLpeHJzMNUO6j99aQ9RCiqIis4ST2aqlwWql-X2FPDj6c-ZN-9BErt6oqPpoqlRz4mr-KhEnEcY1z2zVoR5YuuQjYGzuewRB9RWNn5HGpAnrcYzfRqSIl5A/s1600/sailing-bucket-list-classic-yacht-atlantic-cruise-credit-Another-World-Adventures.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1200" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiisIWDqf-rDDPKcQ0SIdQLSVLpeHJzMNUO6j99aQ9RCiqIis4ST2aqlwWql-X2FPDj6c-ZN-9BErt6oqPpoqlRz4mr-KhEnEcY1z2zVoR5YuuQjYGzuewRB9RWNn5HGpAnrcYzfRqSIl5A/s320/sailing-bucket-list-classic-yacht-atlantic-cruise-credit-Another-World-Adventures.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
Judhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07079097345536803291noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8859200274370406046.post-50932902498749730052017-06-08T06:29:00.003-07:002017-06-08T06:29:47.740-07:00What was I thinking?My Sexy American Girlfriend has an empty nest, and I do not. At times this can create some frustration as we don't spend enough time together doing "couple things." In an effort to think out of the box, Jud suggested we take a dance class.<br />
<br /><br />
Yes, gentle reader, you are probably screaming at the monitor "What are you doing? One of your favorite phrases from years past is that you believe 'Hell has a dance floor.'" I know. You will also recall that instead of seeing a red flag and taking a pause, Jud jams down on the accelerator and unfastens his seatbelt.<br />
<br /><br />
The class was billed as a Novice level West Coast Swing. We showed up a few minutes and watched a class finishing up. The instructor was young, but seemed sweet and friendly. Soon it was our time, and the class had 5 couples and the instructor and her partner, who, due to the lack of men, was another young lady.<br />
<br /><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9QqOgshgpgelpwePJb-K4iKzP04dIE3m6aNoiACuYvbwuyVd1RYU3w6aTSCaZlravfJQWpBHulkqX1qXsRZ7gsXelXh2kjV3yVg-fdGIzldZKtmFAH2MHhL4Pdxe0EaYGD1upaPriO1QC/s1600/two+left+feet.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="352" data-original-width="640" height="176" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9QqOgshgpgelpwePJb-K4iKzP04dIE3m6aNoiACuYvbwuyVd1RYU3w6aTSCaZlravfJQWpBHulkqX1qXsRZ7gsXelXh2kjV3yVg-fdGIzldZKtmFAH2MHhL4Pdxe0EaYGD1upaPriO1QC/s320/two+left+feet.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div style="border-image: none;">
We started learning the first few steps, and my SAGF and I were laughing and cutting up as we tried to learn and keep up. After about 10 minutes of fumbling around they announced we were to switch partners. What the hell? I signed up to learn something with my special lady friend. I wanted us to laugh and have fun. My mood quickly changed, as they tried to teach new steps on top of the ones I had already not learned. And then we switched partners again and again.</div>
<div style="border-image: none;">
<br /></div>
<div style="border-image: none;">
All of my partners and it seemed all of the other people in the class seemed to have some grasp of the basic moves and they were more interested in learning how they were combined and ordered for this particular dance.</div>
<div style="border-image: none;">
<br /></div>
<div style="border-image: none;">
Jud lasted 45 minutes out of 60, which isn't bad. I was fine sitting and watching, but I was done. I felt embarrassed - humiliated even - and abandoned. The SAGF has witnessed my introvert's social anxiety on three other occasions over the past 3 years, but this was one of the worst. </div>
<div style="border-image: none;">
<br /></div>
<div style="border-image: none;">
I can almost laugh about it now, but not really.</div>
Judhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07079097345536803291noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8859200274370406046.post-5662279221635702712017-06-08T05:57:00.003-07:002017-06-08T05:57:17.870-07:00Oddities in the Office<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgV_94Pm9eXfF3cWuEYtYHvebE-722Vji6WIU3VZ0xShJo1_8M8FwTUkN3QP3KIdpbNRh3QNv4f_b3O499oCQ404Ps_0BEkuhPIR-TWMFXtTE_vGaxWZraVz_0d7OWtAwL7LTue3LvUJUm0/s1600/iceberg.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="185" data-original-width="284" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgV_94Pm9eXfF3cWuEYtYHvebE-722Vji6WIU3VZ0xShJo1_8M8FwTUkN3QP3KIdpbNRh3QNv4f_b3O499oCQ404Ps_0BEkuhPIR-TWMFXtTE_vGaxWZraVz_0d7OWtAwL7LTue3LvUJUm0/s1600/iceberg.jpg" /></a></div>
<br /><br />
<br /><br />
Jud was in the break room the other morning fixing a hot mug of bad coffee from some Keurig kind of device that company supplies ( I appreciate the gesture and the fact that the coffee is free. That doesn't make it taste any better). A colleague came in turned on the hot water tap in the sink full blast. Then she walked away to fill up this 1/2 gallon pitcher with ice from our industrial ice maker. Then she shook her pitcher to "settle" the ice, and put some more into it. Then she put hot water over the ice. <br />
<br /><br />
For a moment I thought perhaps she making some tea or other beverage using some arcane process learned from a monk high in the Appalachians, but no. When another bystander asked what she was doing, she replied "I don't like my ice water too cold."<br />
<br /><br />
<br />Judhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07079097345536803291noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8859200274370406046.post-6869870946368167972017-05-26T08:41:00.000-07:002017-05-26T08:46:22.985-07:00Finals!<div style="border-image: none;">
Today is the last day of finals for Little One, who is now 16. Damn. The end of her sophomore year, and she will be glad to see it end. It hasn't been a stellar academic year, more of "I hope she marries well" or "how long will she live at home" year.</div>
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<div style="border-image: none;">
<br /></div>
<div style="border-image: none;">
She does have gainful employment for the summer, working as a lifeguard for $8/hour. So far her job has cost me about $300 in certification and uniforms. I was going to ask her pay some of this back, but the SAGF (Sexy American Girlfriend). gave me a look and then said, "Why?" with a shake of her short, blonde hair and disbelief in her eyes.</div>
<br />
<br />
<div style="border-image: none;">
<br /></div>
<div style="border-image: none;">
So, gentle readers, let me introduce the SAGF, who I hope to hell never reads this. We met, and begin dating, about 3 years ago. She is also divorced, her 2 kids are in college, and she has a good job and family. Why she puts up with Ol' Jud is a question for future scholars to study and debate, as it is a great mystery of the modern age. </div>
<div style="border-image: none;">
<br /></div>
<br />
<br />
<div style="border-image: none;">
But back to finals. I don't recall what her final is today, but it isn't Chemistry or History. I know that because her History teacher called me and, very kindly, told me that she hadn't taken up the make-up test for Chapter 10 of some text. I thanked him and told Little One later last night. In disbelief that she had forgotten, she remarked that she could not recall the subject of Chapter 10. Perhaps Chapter 10 should be called Chapter X of the Secret Tome of Forgotten Knowledge, 4th edition.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLXdtei5yzs-XykMY5FOwZeoiRbjXOpZdgCLBorzc5JyELD54YdVtjtDDyllTWpHpzfK0dFYHC35aXfjegl6mMAD7il7p8HJfTpX0deE3P-z7BjMh9ukKKO5pEhDo2ST0MBPQE-rrjlRau/s1600/History.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="153" data-original-width="330" height="148" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLXdtei5yzs-XykMY5FOwZeoiRbjXOpZdgCLBorzc5JyELD54YdVtjtDDyllTWpHpzfK0dFYHC35aXfjegl6mMAD7il7p8HJfTpX0deE3P-z7BjMh9ukKKO5pEhDo2ST0MBPQE-rrjlRau/s320/History.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div style="border-image: none;">
<br /></div>
<div style="border-image: none;">
I suggested she could reference her notes, but before the all of the words of that sentence had left my mouth, I was informed that the notes had been destroyed in a fit of teenage celebratory ecstasy at the end of the term. The irony that the term wasn't quite over yet for her didn't sit well. </div>
<div style="border-image: none;">
<br /></div>
<br />
<br />
<div style="border-image: none;">
Barring some odd mishap she should be allowed to begin her penultimate year of high school in the late summer. Best of luck, Little One. </div>
Judhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07079097345536803291noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8859200274370406046.post-25678121612918154612015-02-02T20:57:00.001-08:002015-02-02T20:57:19.111-08:00Little OneSo, my Little One just had a birthday, her 14th. She is quite a character. She is bright, funny, pretty, creative and full of life. She is driving me nuts. <div><br></div><div>There is much about being a teenager I can remember as clearly as if 14 was last month. There is probably even more that I cannot relate to at all, especially having to be a teen in the the digital age.</div><div><br></div><div>We struggle as parents and teens have always struggled. Even when I don't like her too much, I am proud of her and I love her.</div><div><br></div><div>Here's to you Little One!</div>Judhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07079097345536803291noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8859200274370406046.post-35815572263507983352014-05-02T06:43:00.001-07:002017-05-26T08:31:41.593-07:00Road Trip!Yes, my legion of fans, Jud is hitting the road for the weekend. Little One and I are hitting the road to the exciting vacation of Valdosta, Georgia.<br />
<br />
What could be better than a visit to a town with motto "A City Without Limits". Heck, it is the 14th largest city in the state.<br />
<br />
It's okay to be a little jealous.Judhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07079097345536803291noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8859200274370406046.post-55389531596423356122014-02-09T10:13:00.001-08:002014-02-09T10:13:29.650-08:00the Jud AbidesYes, still here. I love living in the Deep South, even with all of the stereotypes. At times it pains me when I see the stereotypes validated, whether it be a redneck with a Confederate battle flag in a goofy 4x4 pickup, the crushing poverty of rural poor, or what I consider to be a political mindset that comes straight out of the 19th century.<br />
<br />
There are many more positives about living here. I like the natural beauty. Not that other places aren't lovely. I also am fond of the Pacific Northwest, the desert Southwest, the Great Plains, the big sky country of Montana, the back roads of Pennsylvania, and the rugged beauty of New England.<br />
<br />
And while I wasn't born in the South, I have lived South of the Mason-Dixon for almost 40 years now. As far as the US goes, this is where I feel most at home. I like getting in the car with an atlas and finding some small town on a map of the interstates and main highways and then go visit. I like the grandeur of the homes in the Battery at Charleston. I like watching the sunset over Fort Morgan in Mobile Bay. I enjoy sitting on the bank of the Mississippi and watching it roll on, timelessly. I enjoy the way the accent of a young child tickles my ears when they speak.<br />
<br />
Though we are supposed to get a little snow on Monday night, and the city will again be closed for a day or two, and the local news stations will be delivering break weather updates, today it is sunny and in the 60s. Spring will soon be here. I will begin planting herbs, flowers and tomatoes in my window boxes. I will plan weekend trips down to the Gulf for visiting with friends, fishing, sunbathing and scuba diving.<br />
<br />
If you have never been down South, plan a trip. Whether you want to see the big cities like Memphis, Atlanta or N'awlins, or smaller but charming cities like Charlotte, Richmond or Savannah, or even smaller towns like Natchez or Monroeville, I think you might find some of the magic that keeps me here.Judhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07079097345536803291noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8859200274370406046.post-20366458509788920882013-07-10T08:49:00.001-07:002013-07-10T08:49:08.345-07:00The First Official Un-niversaryThis is the first year that I am not married on the anniversary of my marriage. It would have been 14 years today. I do not mourn the loss of my marriage. I did at one time, but no longer.<br />
<br />
We were folks who got married for a host of bad reasons. We made a go of it for a bit, but the cracks appeared early on and just got worse. Even if my ex had not been gay and a philanderer I doubt it would have survived.<br />
<br />
So, happy Un-niversary to me!Judhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07079097345536803291noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8859200274370406046.post-2608346329372446692013-06-03T09:03:00.001-07:002013-06-03T09:03:19.620-07:00Blood BondsI am a blood donor. Not as prolific as my father. My Pop was O Negative and they would track him down to donate ever 56 days. No telling how many gallons her donated in his lifetime.<br />
<br />
My blood type is much more mundane, good ol' A Positive. I manage organizing my employer's blood drives with the Red Cross. We have one per quarter at three separate sites where I live and work. We collect about 600 pints a year or so.<br />
<br />
I am an irregular apheresis donor, too. There was a time when I went almost every two weeks, but after a while my arms hurt more and more from the frequent donations so I toned back. Then I stopped. I went this Saturday morning for the first time in over a year. It is a significant time commitment, about 2 - 2 1/2 hours. Other than the needle sticks, it is generally an easy process. They have a decent selection of DVDs to watch while one is in the chair.<br />
<br />
I opted out of the movies on this visit and listened to podcasts. That turned out to be a bad call, as I kept drifting off to sleep. It is kind of comfy in the chair, heating pad on my lower back and covered in a think cotton blanket. It can be a chilly process, as they keep the room fairly cold and the blood cools a little as they run it through their machine to extract the platelets and pump the remainder back into the other arm.<br />
<br />
I enjoy donating for another reason. A member of my immediate family and a member of my extended family require regular platelet donations. It is not feasible for me to travel where they live to donate, nor is it cost effective for the Red Cross to ship my donation to them. But someone in their areas are going to the effort to donate for them, so this is my way of giving back to those that help keep them alive. It seems the least that I can do.<br />
<br />
A fair number of people cannot donate do the exclusions that limit donors. Other people cannot handle the process of donating and pass out. I used to be that person, and to this day I cannot watch the needle stick or look at my arms at the needles and tubes without getting woozy, and I have been donating for over 25 years. But if you can donate, and find the time, it is appreciated by the people that need whole blood or platelets.Judhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07079097345536803291noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8859200274370406046.post-68564142036916258612013-04-08T10:09:00.003-07:002013-04-08T10:09:56.013-07:00Observations from the Men's Room at the Office<b>Here are a few reminders for you fellas:</b><br />
<b><br /></b>
1) Feel free to <u><i>zip up before stepping away from the urinal.</i></u> Nobody wants to see what you're packing. Well, some may, but I am not one of them. Feel free to take that extra second to to put everything back in place before getting back into traffic.<br />
<br />
2) Take an extra moment and leave <i><u>your coffee/soda/lunch outside of the bathroom.</u></i> I know you are attached to whatever you brought in with you, but what made you think that leaving it by the sinks was a good idea. Really? And if I see you dropping off food/reclaiming after taking care of business, odds are I am never going to lunch with you, eating at your home, etc.Judhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07079097345536803291noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8859200274370406046.post-8748382838546853512013-03-20T07:58:00.001-07:002013-03-20T07:58:24.536-07:00Pine PollenSpring has arrived in the Deep South. There are many trees, flowers, bushes and other flora in bloom. Shades of green are replacing browns all over. The weather is warmer, and rain is frequent.<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
One of the things that comes with the season is pine pollen. We have a lot of pines throughout the South, and they tend to produce a fine, yellow powder that coats everything. I look forward to opening the windows at home, enjoying the breeze and the temperate conditions that will only be with us for short while. Pollen challenges my patience, as I must dust every day to keep my home from looking like Miss Havisham's.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I am one of the lucky ones and I don't suffer from many of the allergies that others fight. I do get the occasionally stuffy nose and itchy eyes, but I know it is nothing compared to what some go through this time of year.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
At least winter is gone.</div>
Judhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07079097345536803291noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8859200274370406046.post-80524315236309111732013-03-15T07:53:00.002-07:002013-03-15T07:53:56.876-07:00Friday I'm in LoveWell, not really in love, let's be clear. But I am excited about the possibility of a weekend with Spring weather. It is supposed to be in the 70s from now through Sunday, with clear skies.<br />
<br />
I am in the office today, but it will still be nice when I leave for the evening. I plan on dropping the top, putting on my sunglasses (yes, they are prescription because they have to be and I really dislike contacts and I cannot stomach the thought of corrective surgery), and then take the long way home to Little One.<br />
<br />
We have plans tonight. Little One and I are volunteering to assist the skating club with helping ready the facility for the weekend's competition. I do enjoy volunteering. Most of the ongoing work I do is with blood causes. I manage the quarterly blood drives for my company in 3 locations, and I also help with Be the Match registration and getting folks on the National Bone Marrow Registry. Some anonymous donor several years ago saved the life of a family member (for whom I was not a match) and I will do what I can to return the favor.<br />
<br />
Saturday will be spent at the ice rink. I am sure we will be tired when that is all finished, so we will probably just eat out and then crash. Sunday I hope to also spend outside. There is an off-chance that I friend and her kids my stop by for a bit on their way to the beach, so I hope we can make that get together happen, if only for a cup of coffee.Judhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07079097345536803291noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8859200274370406046.post-968248473226541842013-03-06T14:25:00.003-08:002013-03-06T14:25:55.654-08:00Middle Age Crazy? Maybe..."<span style="font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 15px;">Today he traded his big '98 Oldsmobile</span><br />
<span style="font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 15px;">He got a heck of a deal on a new Porsche car"</span><br />
<span style="font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 15px;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 15px;">To be clear, I have not now, nor ever, owned an Oldsmobile. I am not opposed to Olds but I just have never owned one. I did get a heck of a deal on an older Porsche car. In fact, last week, I pulled the trigger and purchased a 911 Cabriolet. It is a 996 model, for those of you who are Porsche-philes or just car buffs. For those who are not, it is a first generation of the water-cooled Porsches. Purists often prefer the older air-cooled versions.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 15px;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 15px;">I had been looking for a long time for one of these, and, in fact had about given up my search and had been seriously considering purchasing a 1988 Alfa Romeo Spider. A pretty car, but with none of the power or handling of the German car. I might even go so far as to say that Alfa has cleaner lines, but that is about it. The Italian roadster offered manual steering and an anemic 115 horsepower.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 15px;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 15px;">The little car I purchased is silver. It has a few miles on it, but not many considering it's age, and less than half what I have on the Saab, which is several years newer. I found the car in Charleston, South Carolina. A couple of weekends ago I made the trek to see the car. I took it for a spin around town in the rain. It was a delight to drive. I spent the next four hours examining the car, calling friends and experts with questions about it, and reviewing the service records that had been maintained with the vehicle. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 15px;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 15px;">I walked away from it that rainy Sunday, determined that I needed a couple of days to do some additional research and really think about it. Two days later I made the purchase. That was eight days ago. It will be Saturday before I have the chance to return to the city and take possession of the car. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 15px;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 15px;">I am looking forward to the trip. I have wanted a Porsche for about 30 years, when I first encountered the 944 Turbo. I came close after to college to buying a 928S4 (I bought a BMW convertible instead). But the desire to have a true performance car was always in the back of my mind.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 15px;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 15px;">Call it a mid-life crisis. Look at the me, the middle-aged guy in the Porsche and sneer and make snide comments. I really don't care. I will enjoy the car. I will enjoy the throaty rumble of the flat-six as i push the pedal on the right into the carpet and flick the car into some corners on some sleepy road in the Deep South. </span><br />
<span style="border: 0px; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 15px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><br /></span>Judhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07079097345536803291noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8859200274370406046.post-3583831636519000212013-02-12T08:29:00.000-08:002013-02-12T08:29:36.291-08:00Office AlgebraIf Jud drinks two (2) 20 oz. Diet Dr. Pepper's, one before and one during, a two hour conference call on regulatory compliance, how long until his bladder explodes? (please show your work)<br />
<br />
Extra Credit:<br />
1) If I were to leave my desk to visit the loo, how many seconds would it take before a senior manager would ask me a question on the call that I would then miss?<br />
<br />Judhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07079097345536803291noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8859200274370406046.post-44796371824767913902013-02-12T07:23:00.000-08:002013-02-12T07:23:04.901-08:00The Return of Finicky..<br />
http://finickymeterisnotavailable.blogspot.com/<br />
<br />Judhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07079097345536803291noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8859200274370406046.post-66101746724011284842013-02-05T13:45:00.000-08:002013-02-05T13:45:06.981-08:00System(s) FailureTechnology of any sort, can be a delight, from the simplest machines to most complex bits of computerized automation. Heck, technology sent humankind to the moon but also sent other astronauts hurtling to their doom.<br />
<br />
In my life, cars, cell phones, the cable box and computers are the bits of technology that frustrate me the most.<br />
<br />
Cars I take for granted and expect them to work and reliably and get me from A-Z with gasoline, regular oil and other fluid changes and the odd tire replacement and brake job. But when the car is on the blink, then life changes remarkably. I am currently a one car enterprise, which is unusual. Normally I have the daily driver and then the former daily driver which is now the backup "hoop-dee". My daily driver is currently going through the change, and as I believe I have mentioned, I need a new daily driver. I will keep you posted.<br />
<br />
Cell phones - oh, where to begin with this love/hate relationship? I like having a phone. I like the ability to communicate with family, a few friends and the local delivery food joints. Sadly, this is also the device that work uses to contact me at all hours of the day and night. And why does every dang app have to send me updates? Really? I want to use your service at my convenience and not be bombarded with every little tidbit that CNBC and Politico think I have to know right this second. It goes without saying that I don't use Twitter, as I think it would make me even more mental.<br />
<br />
The cable box that I had with DirecTV was a wonder. Easy for me to use, set up recordings, manage them, etc. Charter seems to have taken a different approach and wants me to curse at their silver box of frustration. And I really don't like getting up to retrieve the remote that I have thrown at it, either.<br />
<br />
My job is really not supposed to be too technical, and yet everything I do revolves around systems I don't own (and programmers I don't manage) working properly. When one of them goes wonky, my world spirals out of control quickly. My email is bombarded. My phone rings. Text messages come a'flying.<br />
<br />
Such is life I suppose.Judhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07079097345536803291noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8859200274370406046.post-56945222359320025342013-02-04T07:42:00.001-08:002013-02-04T07:42:22.303-08:00On Humor, Snarky Comments and being an AssThe internet and its various methods of communicating to the world, whether publicly via Twitter or Facebook, privately in email, or semi-privately as on a blog such as mine can lead to issues.<br />
<br />
In the past, on a former blog of mine, I got into it with a fellow blogger who read me the riot act for being a whingy middle class white dude with know idea of what life was really like. I had known this fellow online through our mutual blogs for a couple of years. He was very opinionated (I daresay even more than me) and more outspoken. He called me on the carpet. In retrospect, I think he was quite right. We continue to swap stories and communicate to this day. I value his insight into my little musings.<br />
<br />
Another time a very smart and sassy teenager took me to task for what I thought was a humorous comment on her blog, and to which she took a few jabs at me. She was much more clever than I am witty and had quite a laugh or two at me.<br />
<br />
It nice to have a certain anonymity here on the blog. I don't have many readers, and several that are know who I am. Maybe not well, but they at least know me. Some of them do know me, at least via my online presence on social media. A few I know in my daily existence. I would leave it to them to estimate if I am more or less myself on here or someone else altogether. I know that on social media I, like many others, try to craft a certain persona and only draw attention to those aspects of my life that I am proud of or want to share. I am sure that there is a lot in my life that they might have a prurient interest in but that I try to obscure and certainly would never publicize.<br />
<br />
I can be snarky in my comments and posts, both here and elsewhere. Sometimes they are attempts at humor. Other times I may be an ass, whether intentionally or just because I haven't really thought through my actions. To quote Puck,<br />
"<strong style="background-color: #fef3de; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 16px; text-indent: -20px;"> </strong><a href="" name="2275" style="background-color: #fef3de; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 16px; text-indent: -20px;"></a><span style="background-color: #fef3de; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 16px; text-indent: -20px;">If we shadows have offended, </span><br />
<span class="playlinenum" style="background-color: #fef3de; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 0.7em; font-weight: bold; left: 540px; line-height: 16px; padding-left: 50px; position: absolute; text-indent: -20px;">2275</span><span style="background-color: #fef3de; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 16px; text-indent: -20px;">Think but this, and all is mended, </span><br style="background-color: #fef3de; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 16px; text-indent: -20px;" /><span style="background-color: #fef3de; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 16px; text-indent: -20px;">That you have but slumber'd here </span><br style="background-color: #fef3de; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 16px; text-indent: -20px;" /><span style="background-color: #fef3de; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 16px; text-indent: -20px;">While these visions did appear. </span><br style="background-color: #fef3de; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 16px; text-indent: -20px;" /><span style="background-color: #fef3de; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 16px; text-indent: -20px;">And this weak and idle theme, </span><br style="background-color: #fef3de; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 16px; text-indent: -20px;" /><span style="background-color: #fef3de; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 16px; text-indent: -20px;">No more yielding but a dream, </span><span class="playlinenum" style="background-color: #fef3de; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 0.7em; font-weight: bold; left: 540px; line-height: 16px; padding-left: 50px; position: absolute; text-indent: -20px;">2280</span><br style="background-color: #fef3de; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 16px; text-indent: -20px;" /><span style="background-color: #fef3de; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 16px; text-indent: -20px;">Gentles, do not reprehend: </span><br style="background-color: #fef3de; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 16px; text-indent: -20px;" /><span style="background-color: #fef3de; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 16px; text-indent: -20px;">if you pardon, we will mend: </span><br style="background-color: #fef3de; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 16px; text-indent: -20px;" /><span style="background-color: #fef3de; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 16px; text-indent: -20px;">And, as I am an honest Puck, </span><br style="background-color: #fef3de; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 16px; text-indent: -20px;" /><span style="background-color: #fef3de; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 16px; text-indent: -20px;">If we have unearned luck </span><br style="background-color: #fef3de; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 16px; text-indent: -20px;" /><span style="background-color: #fef3de; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 16px; text-indent: -20px;">Now to 'scape the serpent's tongue, </span><span class="playlinenum" style="background-color: #fef3de; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 0.7em; font-weight: bold; left: 540px; line-height: 16px; padding-left: 50px; position: absolute; text-indent: -20px;">2285</span><br style="background-color: #fef3de; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 16px; text-indent: -20px;" /><span style="background-color: #fef3de; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 16px; text-indent: -20px;">We will make amends ere long; </span><br style="background-color: #fef3de; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 16px; text-indent: -20px;" /><span style="background-color: #fef3de; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 16px; text-indent: -20px;">Else the Puck a liar call; </span><br style="background-color: #fef3de; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 16px; text-indent: -20px;" /><span style="background-color: #fef3de; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 16px; text-indent: -20px;">So, good night unto you all. </span><br style="background-color: #fef3de; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 16px; text-indent: -20px;" /><span style="background-color: #fef3de; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 16px; text-indent: -20px;">Give me your hands, if we be friends, </span><br style="background-color: #fef3de; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 16px; text-indent: -20px;" /><span style="background-color: #fef3de; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 16px; text-indent: -20px;">And Robin shall restore amends."</span><div>
<span style="background-color: #fef3de; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 16px; text-indent: -20px;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwUvEM73J4q38V30KNuqJcUHjWGHpDADBfsTWiQUxYVRJ6A7cnUosERJP47r6UVABV7oqgLYvOQqW1Z2bSM3gAed6xfGRrLNkmOEsfLQzEKG5xbLUHcPxA6Jdmd74h7523lSVens-836n5/s1600/court-jester-200x250.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwUvEM73J4q38V30KNuqJcUHjWGHpDADBfsTWiQUxYVRJ6A7cnUosERJP47r6UVABV7oqgLYvOQqW1Z2bSM3gAed6xfGRrLNkmOEsfLQzEKG5xbLUHcPxA6Jdmd74h7523lSVens-836n5/s1600/court-jester-200x250.png" /></a></div>
<div style="text-indent: -20px;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><span style="line-height: 16px;">As I court jester I fear I would have lost my head long ago.</span></span></div>
Judhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07079097345536803291noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8859200274370406046.post-46053788019501607442013-01-27T22:04:00.001-08:002013-01-27T22:04:18.833-08:00Car ShoppingI have been scouring the Internet for months looking at European cars. Mostly Porsches, but also the odd BMW, Mercedes and Jaguar. I really want one.<br />
<br />
Rationally, buying an older car of foreign manufacture is not a wise fiscal move. Having previously owned an old Land Rover and a BMW I have felt the sting of labor bills and the costly replacement parts.<br />
<br />
It might make more sense to buy a new, cheap American or Korean econobox. But they are soulless. I cannot make an emotional connection with those vehicles.<br />
<br />
What about a Honda or a Toyota, one might ask. The rugged dependability of those brands does appeal to that part of me that likes things to work with little conscious thought or effort. But I am not wild about them.<br />
<br />
So my thoughts return to the cars from Europe. A BMW M5 with a manual gearbox. Maybe a 650i with the bizarre rear end. The newer Jaguar XK is sleek, but the residuals are scary. The SL500 is a nice car, but the body styles vary a great deal year to year, and the headlights look odd. Porsches are what I truly lust after, but am I setting myself up to become a statistic of I purchase a car with that much power and grace that I would be lulled into trying driving maneuvers that I would never contemplate in a lesser vehicle?<br />
<br />
Let us hope that the Saab continues to find its way to work and back each day and that I continue to add to the car fund until I make up my mind and don't rush to buy something out of desperation or passion. The hangover from buying a car can be worse than a bad night out drinking.Judhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07079097345536803291noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8859200274370406046.post-25189186534543326322013-01-17T07:38:00.000-08:002013-01-17T07:38:19.409-08:00And Now, the WeatherIt has been gray and rainy for quite some time now in my lil patch of the Deep South. I am certain that this is not the sort of thing that the Chamber of Commerce is pleased with, and I imagine that in some dimly lit office downtown there are people even now drafting memoranda to the National Weather Service seeking an explanation that does include any heretical references to "global warming."<br />
<br />
With the forecast for snow being tossed out yesterday, children had hopes as high as on Christmas Eve hoping against hope that somehow snow would fall and school would be closed. No such luck. The morning broke rainy and cold, but the local forecasters were adjusting their models and tried to pinpoint the exact moment when the rain would turn to snow today.<br />
<br />
We shall have to wait and see what happens. I like an occasional fall of snow. I prefer it to occur overnight, so I don't have to drive in it with the mighty throngs of fellow Southerners who have no idea how to drive when there is even a hint of snow.With my luck, though, whatever snow the descends will be about the time that I leave work, and the drive that normally takes 30 minutes will take hours. I can even imagine commuteres telling tales of their heroic trek through an inch (or less) of slush, and how poodle was even eyed as dinner in case a Donner party situation were to occur on the interstate.<br />
<br />
Stay warm and dry, and if you see my car, steer clear. I won't have the traction control on because I need a thrill.Judhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07079097345536803291noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8859200274370406046.post-83357804281908392852013-01-10T06:59:00.000-08:002013-01-10T06:59:30.502-08:00The Nerd Chronicles, Part mmxiii.xii Or, "How I Spent My Christmas Vacation."<br />
<br />
You might think that the recently divorced Jud would be the scamp and up to some sort of mischief that would bring a tear of joy to the eye of Bacchus, but no. I was, to use the vernacular, "getting my nerd on."<br />
<br />
After Little One headed off to spend time with the EW, I hopped in the car and went off to the land of the palmetto, the low country boil, and shrimp and grits to do some research. I spend a couple of days in the state archives, assisted by a helpful and friendly staff, paging through volumes in the stacks, digging in the microfiche cabinets and looking for images of centuries old documents.<br />
<br />
The sense of excitement and giddiness that I felt at times can be likened to that of a child at Christmas, as a piece of data fills a gap in knowledge. A hunch is confirmed - or dispelled - but then the truth is known and proven. One answer led to many more questions. My mind was often racing faster than I could take notes.<br />
<br />
I would hop off from the microfiche reader and rush to the computer, look at something else, grab the pad, and then head to the map room to locate some ford in a small river in a district that no longer exists but has been split into counties. The time flew by. I took few breaks. I spent lunch eating in my car, or down the street at the waffle hut, drinking bad coffee and refilling my LDL cholesterol.<br />
<br />
I took my dinners sitting at the bars of local eateries, a pint of beer or a glass of scotch before me, straining to read poor copies of documents from 1795 and making notes on a legal pad. Fortunately I was thoroughly engrossed so that no fellow patrons or bartenders tried to make witty banter with me. I felt curious glances at times, but chose not to be drawn into inane conversations with these passersby.<br />
<br />
I also visited the state university's library and remarkable map collection, adding to my wonder and respect for librarians, archivists and their craft. I don't have the patience for all of the cataloging, arranging, filing and storage, but I do appreciate that they do, and have done it so well for so long.<br />
<br />
After two days and nights, I headed out to find a Revolutionary War site where one of my ancestors had trod. I spent the best part of a day wandering along the river, trudging across muddy fields and wooded paths. I spoke with the ranger several times. As I was the only visitor enjoying the park that day, we had time to talk in depth about the formal research that has been conducted on the site over the years, the documentary history of the battle, and the state of preservation of the site. My father had been a park ranger, and it isn't too hard to tell if a ranger really loves what they do and if they really know much about the site where they work. This man was a student of his site. He had been there for 12 years and was well versed in its history, research, and the period as a whole. I was impressed. <br />
<br />
I took lunch on the porch of the visitors center, eating cheese, crackers and an apple. It was a cold winter's day, fairly gray and windy, but beautiful nonetheless. Late in the afternoon, after an exchange of email addresses with the ranger and a parting wave, I headed towards the coast.<br />
<br />
I went to a coastal city rich in history. I had known of it more for its importance in the Civil War, but it possesses a history much richer and deeper than that. The dichotomy of the present and the layers of the past was great fun. Amazing, fresh seafood was to be found, and the sun decided to come out and dance upon the water. I sat for some time watching boats sail in the harbor, dwarfed by a container ship that made its way in from parts unknown with its load of cargo.<br />
<br />
I spent my New Year's Eve writing in the hotel. I had a ground floor room, so I heard the chirps of people locking and unlocking their cars all night. I was asleep early, probably by 2200. In the morning, I rose, went the gym, nibbled at the usual complimentary breakfast fare, then hit the road for home.<br />
<br />
It was the best holiday I have had in years. I hope to have more and similar travels in the not too distant future.Judhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07079097345536803291noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8859200274370406046.post-81783726118892954962012-12-10T12:30:00.001-08:002012-12-10T12:30:20.572-08:00Road Trip!I took a brief road trip over the weekend, to Nashville. The weather was cool, grey and rainy. Not that I cared much, really. I went to <a href="http://www.friendsoftworiversmansion.org/our-history.html">Two Rivers Park</a> and wandered around for a bit. The weather kept many away, I am sure, but there were a few other stalwarts out, some walking, some jogging, some playing golf, both the kind with clubs and the kind with Frisbees. <br />
<br />
<img height="298" src="https://www.discgolfscene.com/logos/logo_Two_Rivers_Disc_Golf_Club-1294260123-large.jpg" width="400" /><br />
<br />
Judging by the amount of traffic near the shopping areas I passed, a lot of folks were doing their damnedest to prop up the economy through rampant consumerism. I didn't really buy anything this weekend, apart from gas for the car, a couple of Redbox DVD rentals, snacks and a couple of meals out.<br />
<br />
One meal was noteworthy, at a place called <a href="http://sillygoosenashville.com/">The Silly Goose</a>.The atmosphere was good. My friend and I went at peak dinner time on Saturday night, but didn't have to wait long at all. We sampled some local cheeses and then enjoyed our meals. I opted for fish and she went for a vegetarian plate; we shared liberally. They had a decent wine list, but as I was already a little tired, it was raining, and I was pretty much a stranger to the area I decided not to add another level of complexity to my driving.<br />
<br />
The last time I went to Nashville I had dined in the same neighborhood. It was interesting how, even in the dark and rain, I started to remember the area from a visit some time ago.<br />
<br />
I do enjoy getting out on these short trips, and Nashville has a lot yet for me to explore.Judhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07079097345536803291noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8859200274370406046.post-80038260089391818112012-11-19T06:47:00.000-08:002012-11-19T06:47:07.288-08:00Long Distance CallI had an interesting phone call over the weekend. I spoke with someone that I have known through various virtual media for some time but had never held a real conversation.<br />
<br />
I was a little nervous. At times in the past I have made comments/expressed opinions that really annoyed this person. And this person pulled no punches once and really blasted me. That's okay. At times I think we try to be too nice for the sake of not rocking the boat and the expense of dialogue and honesty.<br />
<br />
I enjoyed the call. It helped me fill in some gaps of knowledge, erase some assumptions, and confirm others. I had the chance top get some of my questions answered. It made my night. I wonder what this person, who I do claim as a friend, got from the call? I suppose it is not for me to know, ultimately.<br />
<br />
<img src="http://www.earthisland.org/eijournal/spring2011/images/Strange3.jpg" />Judhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07079097345536803291noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8859200274370406046.post-1937305136884968312012-11-08T07:02:00.002-08:002012-11-08T07:02:56.777-08:00Book Review (Brief)<img src="http://bloximages.chicago2.vip.townnews.com/coastweekend.com/content/tncms/assets/v3/editorial/8/d7/8d72a2be-d81a-11e1-9126-001a4bcf887a/5012e0a33d2c3.preview-300.jpg" /><br />
<br />
The last time I was in the local library I saw this book on one of those shelves were books are displayed covers out rather than neatly organized in the stacks. I am glad that librarians go this effort. If they did not, I and I imagine many others would miss out on a number of good reads, this one included.<br />
<br />
Karen Fisher-Alaniz's father, Murray, served in the USN in WWII. He was, ostensibly, a radio operator in Hawaii for the duration of the war. At least that was his story, if asked. But one day Karen was given a stack of letters that her grandmother had saved, the correspondence her father had written home during his time away from home.<br />
<br />
What unfolds is a daughter's discovery of her father's real contribution to the war effort as well as an old man's battles with PTSD. I found it to be heartwarming and quite the page turner.Judhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07079097345536803291noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8859200274370406046.post-40741939116876872622012-11-07T10:11:00.000-08:002012-11-07T10:11:25.573-08:00Political HangoverI am a bit of a political junkie. Early in my post-college career I was offered a post with some friends to help manage and run a political campaign with a number of college friends for a contender for a seat in the House. It was a tempting thought. The fellows who were forming this team were incredibly bright and we had spent countless hours in college in class together arguing and even more outside of class doing the same, discussing both political theory and practice.<br />
<br />
I had been very active in campus politics for my four years at university.And yet I declined the offer. I had a job of sorts and didn't want to take the risk. My friends went on to win the campaign, and two of the five are still very much involved in politics One is major wheel in local politics in our college town, the other is a smaller fish in the D.C. pond but has found his niche and has built a couple of nice companies and is what one might call "financially secure."<br />
<br />
These days I follow politics, but my interest waxes and wains, depending on the season, the politicians and the issues. Neither of the major party candidates excited me, but the issues of the day certainly do. It seems that as a nation we are becoming increasingly polarized on issues and that our leaders are unwilling to compromise and broker deals.<br />
<br />
That's a shame.<br />
<br />
Politics does have winners and losers, but it is not a zero sum game. If we constantly bully and push the 'other' around then what kind of system are we building? I had hoped (in vain) that the Libertarian party would break the 5% threshold this year and become a national voice and a viable option to the two parties in power. I have looked at some of the parliamentary systems with their multiple, fractious parties and see some value to those systems, although they are not without their flaws. But it does seem that in those systems the brokering of deals among groups becomes more important for getting things done.<br />
<br />
On a side note, how different might presidential politics be if more states opted for proportional representation in the electoral college rather than a "winner takes all" approach? Only two states don't use this approach but it might certainly get the nation a step closer to the notion of the a truly popular vote to elect the president, if that is what one wants.<br />
<br />
Enough of politics for now. I still do have a bit of a news hangover.Judhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07079097345536803291noreply@blogger.com1